Lost in Darkness
by Lady Evans Potter
Summary: Harry has fallen into darkness, where he is reliving bad memories. Contains rape, partially graphic, bad!Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione. Oneshot. Dark, character death. kind of M/M. bad summary.


Lost in Darkness

Author: Lady Evans Potter

I don't know why I even care. They only ever use me, right? Beat me, starve me, whip me… hell, they even raped me. Why should I care? They certainly didn't. I'm just their toy. They always told me what to do, and would hurt me when I didn't do as told. I feared them, but I couldn't show it to anyone. They expected me to be brave, to save them from everything dark and evil. They took away my only sanctuary and made it to a place I would fear.

I hate them for that.

Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve this. What it because I simply lived, instead of dying? Yes, I suppose that would be enough reason for Albus Dumbledore at least. He needed a weapon, a weapon to sic on Voldemort when time was right for him. Not to worry if that weapon died, then he could just find another one.

Guessed who I am yet? Thought so, even you muggles have heard of Harry Bloody Potter, the boy who wouldn't die.

But then again, I was known as Freak, abnormal and other such names for the most of my so-called before becoming the hero of the Light. Was that the life of a normal family? Spoiling one kid as badly as he couldn't even make his own food, then let the other boy do everything, and I mean _everything_ of chores in the house, which included cooking from the age of four, and everything on the outside from mowing the lawn to weeding and painting the house.

I was their slave, their house elf. If my work was not satisfactory, then I would be beaten, whipped and, on some occasions, raped by my so-called uncle and his friends. Hell, even Dudley joined them. I must say, at times I feared for my life, I feared for what would happen if I did not survive.

But, in the end, I did survive. How I am not even sure of myself. I guess it's just to be contributed to my fucked up life. But often I wish I did not. In the end, it would have been kinder to let me die, rather than suffer from both worlds. But none may have mercy on the damned Boy Who Lived's soul.

I had long ago lost hope, but I was commanded to fight. I could not just let them die, could I? At least that were the words of the little guilt trip Dumbledore lead me on. I tried to commit suicide, but all I got was a charm that would prevent any physically self infected wounds. But I, being the little snake in lions clothing, of course found away to break it.

But by then, most of my secrets had been discovered. It was in my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The little Golden Lion was depressed. In the last June, I had lost my only living caretaker, whom still loved me, even though I was a little good for nothing freak. His death, which was just a mistake, a ploy of Voldemort, or so I was thought to believe. It broke me more than anything else had done. It broke me more than the first time I was raped, at the age of six. That summer, I fear to remember, but it was made me become lost in the darkness. Everything hurt, and when Dumbledore, being the _kind, caring_ grandfatherly wizard he was, he just _had_ to inform the Dursleys about my loss. Of course, it didn't help that the Order of the Blasted Chicken threatened them either. No, I think they wanted to ensure that their little weapon wasn't getting any more independent of them, but rather needed the Order and the Headmaster to save him from the big, bad muggles. Oh, if they only knew what they caused…

I fear to remember the first week back, because I can still feel the pain from it. The loss of my beloved Hedwig was the least painful, but hurt more in my heart than I could ever imagine. I believe that is because of our love for each other, and that we took care of the other no matter what happened. Vernon shot her with a gun as soon as we got _home_ to Privet Drive.

Can anyone guess what happened when I got home to the Dursleys? He raped me, again and again and again… then who would show up but some of the others who paid Vernon to be able to rape me? What a pleasant welcome back gift, or what? I spent the time I was not being raped or being forced to do chores in Dudley's second bedroom, trying to let my body heal itself. But that would never work, unless I got at least two days free from any work and abuse.

But back to where I was before. The death of Sirius broke me in more ways than I had been broken before. It did not help that Dumbledore decided that I needed to be more grateful towards him, and that training the weapon was something needed to be done. Well, they called it training, I call it torture. The year went by with me having a major depression, and losing the little will to live I had. Sirius had been my hope, the hope of a better future. And to make things even better, I actually discovered that Hermione and Ron were spying on me, by orders of the great Albus Dumbledore. He had spoken of how I was vulnerable to the Death Eaters and Voldemort, now that I was grieving.

Things went darker and darker for me, until my life became one of nothing more than playing puppet and doing what I was told to do, even though I was lost now. But, the worst had yet to come.

An early morning in the beginning of June, before the exams started, a letter came for me in the morning post. It was an invitation from the Headmaster, who wanted to see me after breakfast in his office. Had I know what I know now, I would never have gone there. I would rather have gone to face Voldemort himself than going into that office.

As soon as I stepped into the office, I was hit with a curse. It commanded me to walk into the Headmasters living room, which I did, without thinking. Thinking back, I should have realized that it was the Imperious Curse, one of the Unforgivable Curses. I was then ordered to take of my robe, which seemed like a good idea, because it was hot in the room. Underneath the robe I wore a t-shirt and the regular school pants, as is were hot in the cause because of the season. The headmaster then appeared, wearing robes in a hideous purple color, which, strangely enough, were loosely fastened.

He silently commanded me to sit down on the couch, which I did without any reaction. It was a normal command, wasn't it? I hadn't noticed, but by then, Dumbledore had closed the door to the office and locked it. Then there was this voice in my head, saying that it was so hot in the room that I should take of some clothes before I became too hot. Finding it to be a good idea, I took of my pants and t-shirt, and sat back in the couch. I didn't really surprise me when the Headmaster did the same, but what did surprise me, what that he wore nothing under his robe. He sat down next to me, and some strange though in my mind said that I was not to object to anything he did.

He began to feel up my back, and squeezed my ass a bit, and touched my stomach. He kissed my hair, let his hands fall to my hips and thigh, and then he pushed me back down on the couch, removing my boxer as soon as he could, throwing it on the top of my other clothing. He summoned something, which name I did not catch, but I felt something cold in my entrance. It was uncomfortable, and I wanted it away, which I stated to him. He chuckled at my pleas, and turned me over to lie on my stomach. The next thing I knew was pain, unbelievable pain, as something thick and big pressed itself inside my anus. It was then the cursed was lifted, and my thoughts became my own again. I felt the feeling of being roughly thrusted into, over and over again. My own headmaster, a rapist. Who would have thought that? Not I, at least. I felt that I begun to bleed, and heard him groan, as he just had an incredible deep thrust. He lasted far longer than I believed possible, while he was ripping my insides to pieces with his force. It hurt, hurt very much. I had hoped last summer was the last time that would ever happen to me, but it seems that I am for ever unlucky. I had tried to fight him, but I was not strong enough. I felt him come, which was a nasty feeling, then heard him whisper a charm, which gave him a new erection. I could feel it against my back side, and the last I remember before passing out, was the feeling of being brutally raped once more by my headmaster.

When I woke up after that, I could see all the evidence had been removed, except me and my clothing. What he had done was to break me completely. I threw on my clothes, and hurried out of the room. I would not think of it, I would not think of it, I thought to myself. I hurried back to Gryffindor tower, where I proceeded to take a steaming hot shower, to get away any traces of what had happened to me.

It was then I realized that the Light was not always good. So, maybe, just maybe, the Dark was not like that? It was a small thought, and since I had lost hope, I did not believe there would be any happiness for me. I admit, what I did next was reckless, but I had to know.

I sent a letter to Voldemort. I asked what he believed in, seeing as I wanted to widen my horizon. And, to my great surprise, I got an answer. Voldemort wanted to preserve our magic, and to make sure that Muggleborns brought into our world would learn our traditions and not marry Muggles, as they destroyed the magic in the blood. Muggleborns were gifts from Magic to prevent inbreeding to cause magic to weekend. I could understand that. I believed in it too. We came to an agreement, which left me as a part of the Dark, while not a Death Eater or a Lord.

But as I fell more into the darkness, I became lost. Dumbledore was poisoned to death, which was good for everyone. But I had lost my purpose. There was no need for a weapon. Every hope of mine was long gone and lost. What was left was but one thing. The next adventure. Death. What still surprises many that read the sad story of the one known as Harry Potter is the ending of it all.

I no longer had a reason to live. And so, as all exams were over, and it was time to relax at Hogwarts, I made my move. I wanted to die, but knew that the Killing Curse would not work. I did it the simple way. I cast a slashing charm at each wrist, and slowly bleed to death. In blood, before my corpse, I had written my last words.

_I was a supposed hero, yet no one saw me. I was the savior, but no one saved me. I fell, but no one caught me. It was dark, but then I felt peace at last. Farewell._


End file.
